My name is Brett Oneliner. I’m a private dick.

Not the kind who get their license in a cereal box.

I’m a real dick.

I walked into my office at nine a.m.

I looked at the first case for the day. I drank it.

I ordered another case.

A tall blonde walked past the window.

I knew she was tall coz I’m on the second floor.

A buxom brunette walked in and she seemed to know my name.

It was my secretary.

She sat on my knee and took a letter.

Soon she’ll be able to take a whole word.

I don’t send much correspondence.

The phone rang. I jumped three feet because

I don’t have a phone.

My secretary gave me a burning kiss.

I ripped the cigarette out of her mouth.

I checked my filing cabinet.

It was full of nail files.

A redhead walked in.

I looked at her long willowy legs.

They went up to her eyes.

She had a smile that would stop traffic.

Her teeth made dentists suicide.

She looked at me with those “come hither” eyes.

I came, hither.

She told me her sordid story.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry,

So I laughed till I cried.

She pulled a pair of Mexican love beads from her bag.

She kneaded them harshly as she explained her situation.

My eyes watered. My hands trembled.

My lips quivered. She came to me, slowly.

And slapped my face. It nearly sobered me up.

Apparently she suspected her husband of having an affair with his secretary.

I told her not to be silly and promised to be home early for supper.

She went out, and my secretary came out from under the desk.

She hadn’t found the stapler I told her I’d dropped.

She’d searched everywhere, though.

I offered her a raise. She told me to put it away.

A couple came in. They said they were married.

I doubted it, because he seemed happy.

They were worried about their son. I didn’t blame them.

He’d been kidnapped a month ago and I hadn’t found him.

I told him I’d get his son back or die.

He was nodding his head as he left.

The wife came to me and kissed me with ardour.

Then again with harder ardour. Things got harder.

I told her I needed more time.

She gave me three wristwatches.

She was wearing me down. She was wearing me out.

My Father had been right, I was down and out.

We jumped in her car. It was uncomfortable and very public.

Then we drove off.

We drove through the countryside.

I knew we were in the country because I was hitting fewer pedestrians.

We drove to a creepy house on a hill.

It was so creepy it had goose bumps. I wasn’t worried.

I’m so tough my suits wear out from the inside.

I hit the door, hard. It wouldn’t budge.

She turned the door handle. It opened. I hate that.

We walked in, and a wide staircase stared at us.

I poked my tongue out at it.

I told her to check upstairs, but she didn’t want to.

I tossed her for it. She landed on the fourth step.

I walked into the kitchen. Cases of cereal boxes everywhere.

What was this – a private eye convention?

I opened the fridge and the missing kid fell out.

He looked cold. He looked around at the cereal cases, guiltily.

He’d locked himself in the fridge while on a puffy pops binge.

He asked me for a box of cereal. I looked at a case on the floor.

It was open and empty.

I looked at another case.

This case was closed.
 

more of my FUNNY POEMS here